away. It was removed instantly, the conversation continuing when the steward had discreetly disappeared. ‘You speak little of your personal life.’
‘The hours I work hardly allow for much of a personal life!’ she protested.
‘Emma, for this weekend you are supposed to be my girlfriend—I am taking you to meet my parents. Surely you can see that I ought to know some of your background.’
He had a point. In the weeks she had known him, she had been privy to all sorts of information about him.
His diary had noted birthdays, anniversaries, his clothing preferences for the times when he needed an outfit at short notice, even the hairdresser he used for his regular trim. She knew, because it had been her job to hire a new housekeeper for him, how he liked things done, the sort of food he kept at home—had even downloaded some songs for him—so if she were put on the spot right now, she knew enough about Luca to bluff her way through, whereas apart from the fact her father was in a nursing home, Luca knew practically nothing about her.
That was the way she had wanted it.
But, as Luca pointed out, their stories needed to tally. She screwed up her courage, and then suddenly he came up with a compromise.
‘Okay—I’ll tell my mother you don’t like talking about it.’
‘About what?’ she asked, bewildered.
‘Anything I don’t know the answer to,’ he said, pleased— that he’d managed to eke out a smile from her. ‘We have been seeing each other for a couple of months,’ Luca said, ‘since you came and worked for me. We have both decided that working together is too much, so you will be finishing up soon.’
‘To do what?’
Luca shrugged—trying to think what his girlfriends actually did all day.
‘Modelling?’
‘Please!’ Emma snorted with laughter. ‘If I’m to convincingly play the part of your devoted girlfriend, then at least there has to be a semblance of me in there. So…’ She chewed on her lip and tried to imagine a world where this man loved her, tried for the first time to actually picture a world with herself and Luca as a couple, and glimpsed the impossible—being the sole recipient of his affection.
Yet even if it was impossible, it was still fun pretending.
‘I’m applying to study art, you’re organising a studio for me in your apartment, in that big room at the back that you don’t use. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but unbeknown to you I’ve guessed.’
‘Are you good?’ Luca asked. ‘At art?’
‘I’ve just started night school. My dad didn’t like me pursuing…’ Her voice faded for a moment, realising now why he might have hated that side of her so, but she refused to dwell on it, it was just too big to deal with right now. ‘Oh, and by the way…’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘Just in case it comes up in the conversation, today’s my birthday.’
‘Really?’ Luca frowned. ‘You should have said.’
‘I just did.’
‘I am sorry to pull you away from your celebrations.’
‘You didn’t,’ Emma answered tartly. ‘It’s really no big deal.’
‘And how old is Emma today?’
‘She’s twenty-five!’ It made her blush to say it, with the information she’d so recently given him. She saw just the slight rise of one eyebrow, but thankfully he chose not to comment.
‘So what about you?’ she asked.
‘You know about me.’
‘I don’t know much about your family.’
‘My mother is Mia, my father is Rico. He was a policeman,— and you know about Daniela…’
‘And he’s sick…’ Emma probed. ‘Your father?’
‘Very.’
‘And you don’t get on?’
He gave a tight shrug and clearly it was Luca now who didn’t want to talk about it!
‘Anything else I should know?’ she pressed.
‘Nothing.’ Luca shrugged. ‘As I said, my father was the village policeman, I went to boarding school from ten…’ He saw her frown at that. ‘That is usual where I come from, as the school in the village only goes up that age. It was all pretty normal really.’
‘Till their son became a billionaire.’ Emma smiled, but— then she was serious. ‘Why, Luca? Why do you hate them so—?’
‘Not Daniela,’ he interrupted. ‘And not my mother…’ He shook his head. ‘Let’s just do what we have to, smile, enjoy,— familia…’ He sneered the word. ‘Let’s just get through it.’
There was a bedroom at the rear of the plane, but for the relatively short flight to Italy he just tipped back his seat and stretched out and Emma did the same. Hoping her swollen eyes had settled, she took off her glasses and lay back.
‘I love these chairs,’ Emma commented. ‘I wish I had one at home.’
She squirmed in comfort as the attendant placed a soft warmed blanket over her.
‘If I ever have to bribe you I’ll remember that.’ Then he added, ‘Are you okay?’ when it took her a second too long to smile.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Because if you’re worried about what you told me yesterday—’ he was direct as always ‘—well, you don’t have to be—I’m not in anything for the long haul, and…’ he gave a slightly wistful smile ‘…if you’ve waited this long for it to be right, I do understand.’
‘I’m not upset about that,’ Emma said, because right now she wasn’t—Luca had wanted a fling and actually so now did she. She probably wasn’t very good fling material, but she’d deal with it. It really was good to just get away.
‘Then what are you so upset about?’ They were lying flat, facing each other. ‘You look as if you’ve been crying.’
‘Not about you,’ she retorted.
‘Good,’ Luca said, and he intended to keep it that way. ‘Here.’ He dug in his pocket and pulled out a black box and handed it to her as if it were a sweet. ‘You’d better put these on—if we were going out, I would have bought you nice gifts.’
‘Goodness!’ Emma gasped and held up two earrings, the huge teardrop diamonds sparkling. ‘They look so real.’
‘They are real,’ Luca said dryly.
‘I’d better not lose them then.’ She tried to sound as casual as him, but it felt strange to be holding his gift, strange to be lying beside him and very hard not to imagine that
